


Jealous

by SeeBeeStrellacott



Series: Oh, The Angst [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Angst, Book: Lethal White (Cormoran Strike), Canon Compliant, Cormoran Strike Loves Robin Ellacott, Drunk Cormoran Strike, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Inspired by Music, Jealous Cormoran Strike, Musical References, Pining, Post-Wedding, but he missed his chance, hallucinating Cormoran Strike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeBeeStrellacott/pseuds/SeeBeeStrellacott
Summary: Cormoran spends a lonely night after Robin returns from her honeymoon, wearing her wedding ring.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Oh, The Angst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860244
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28
Collections: Musical Musings - Cormoran Strike Fic Exchange





	Jealous

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my series, Oh The Angst, where I explore the thoughts and feelings of various characters during certain scenes from the books. All are canon compliant, no re-writes. Most, if not all, are also inspired by music.
> 
> If you have a scene, character, or song you would like me to explore, leave it in the comments or on my Tumblr, @seebee239.
> 
> You can find the song inspiration for this work [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50VWOBi0VFs). If this song doesn't just absolutely break your heart, you should check your pulse, because you're dead inside.

> _Scenes from Lethal White:_
> 
> _Strike was forced to recognize how long, and how deeply, he had hoped that Robin would not marry. He had wanted her free, free to be what they had been together. Free, so that if circumstances changes...so the possibility was there...free, so that one day, they might find out what else they could be to each other._
> 
> _***_
> 
> _"Sticking with it, then, are you?" he had said roughly, after a glance at her ring finger._

* * *

Strike wandered aimlessly down the street. He had meant to pick up some groceries for dinner, but all he had managed to acquire had been two four-packs of Tennent’s. As his stomach growled angrily, he realized that he still needed food. He had been about to turn into the kebab shop near the office, but stopped himself. It reminded him of Robin. He had come to think of it as “our place”, along with the Tottenham, and so many others where they had shared pleasant moments. Instead, he walked to a chippy a little further down the street. It wasn’t very good, so they never ate there; thoughts of Robin wouldn’t follow him there.

He took his packet of grease and turned towards home. The light summer breeze did nothing to warm him. He felt cold and empty, a feeling that was sure to persist long after his food had been consumed, though perhaps not as long as it would take to finish his lager. 

Strike trudged up the stairs to his tiny flat, opening a can of Tennent’s on the way. He awkwardly chugged some, trying to balance the carrier bag, food, and himself, while also keeping an eye on the stairs. A small stream of lager slipped from his lips and onto his shirt. He muttered a curse and wiped at it ineffectually.

He set the carrier bag with his beer on the floor next to his chair, not even bothering with the pretense of “putting the rest away.” He chewed his grease sodden food unenthusiastically, washing it down with his second can of lager. 

His thoughts, as he knew they would, turned to Robin. She seemed to materialize in front of him, her image slightly blurred and shimmering in his mind’s eye, like a phantom. She sat at his small table, watching him, the hint of a smile playing around her mouth. He held out some chips to her, but she declined his silent offer with a shake of her head. Her rose-gold hair gleamed in the faint light. For one moment, he saw her as he did on her wedding day, with her hair falling in waves and a crown of roses on her head. The next moment her hair was back to its usual sleek design. 

“Why, Robin? Why are you staying with him? Why did you go on the honeymoon?” he asked her.

She didn’t answer, so he continued, “I thought you were stronger than that. I thought you would tell him off. Did you? What did he say to convince you to stay? Why didn’t you come with me?”

Finally, she replied, “Because you didn’t ask.”

Strike grunted and looked away from her. “What was I supposed to do? Stop the wedding?” He looked back at her, angry; whether he was angrier at himself or at her, he wasn’t sure. He opened this third can of beer.

“Was I supposed to barge in and say, ‘Hey, Robin, I know I’ve never shown the slightest bit of romantic interest in you, but will you run away with me? Will you leave the man you’ve been with for a decade and see if _maybe_ there might be something between us?’ Right. I didn’t think so.” He turned away from her again and got up to open the window, letting in some air.

“What do you see in him? What does he have that I don’t?”

His imaginary Robin answered him, voicing his deepest insecurities. “He’s handsomer, thinner, younger. He has a better job, makes more money. He can give me a better house, a better car, a family, and…”

“And he has two legs,” Strike finished for her.

The busker on the street below interrupted his musings. The young man was singing Labrinth’s “Jealous,” his voice haunting and beautiful. Strike listened silently as he finished his can of beer and opened his fourth.

_I’m jealous of the rain_

_That falls upon your skin_

_It’s closer than my hands have been_

_I’m jealous of the rain_

Strike imagined brushing raindrops from Robin’s cheekbones. She smiled up at him, her soaked hair clinging to her face and neck. His attention was brought back to the Robin in front of him, whom he longed to touch.

Strike’s eyes focused on the ring on Robin’s finger, which seemed impossibly large. He saw it close up, as if her hand were held directly in front of his face. The sight of it, which he had once convinced himself had been welcomed, had never hurt more than it had that morning. His voice had been much rougher than he had intended when he commented on it, but the sight of it had caused something to break loose in his mind. He had seen that his tone had irritated her, but he found it difficult to care. 

_‘Cause I wished you the best of_

_All this world could give_

_And I told you when you left me_

_There’s nothing to forgive_

_But I always thought you’d come back, tell me all you found was_

_Heartbreak and misery_

_It’s hard for me to say, I’m jealous of the way_

_You’re happy without me_

His eyes turned back to Robin’s face, slightly desperate. “I tried to tell you. I tried. When we hugged… I wanted to tell you then. Would it have made a difference if I had? What if I had kissed your hair like I’d wanted to? Would you still have stayed?” She seemed to understand the “with him” that Strike hadn’t been able to utter. She gave him a sad smile, neither confirming nor denying his questions.

Robin was sitting in front of him now, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her. Strike reached out and wrapped his hands around hers.

“I tried to call you,” he told her. “I called your parents’ house, and your dad said you were on your honeymoon. You don’t know how much that hurt.” He paused, and hung his head for a moment. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never told you what you mean to me. I’m sorry I didn’t try to call you again. I should have. Would it have changed things?”

_I’m jealous of the nights_

_That I don’t spend with you_

“I’m sorry I slept with Coco. That was another monumental mistake. I never would have, if I hadn’t thought that you were doing the same with _the twat_.” Strike couldn’t shake the irrational belief that if he _hadn’t_ had that ill-advised one-night stand, Robin wouldn’t have come home still wearing her wedding ring. 

Strike remembered the phone call he had gotten late that night, which Coco had answered. He had been rather drunk at the time, but when he viewed his call log later, he saw the office number. That meant that whoever it was had been transferred to his mobile. 

“Was that you?” he asked, but again, Robin had no answer for him.

_I’m jealous of the love_

_Love that wasn’t here_

_Gone for someone else to share_

_Oh, I’m jealous of the love_

“Do you feel anything for me at all?”

The rest of his beer forgotten, Strike stared into Robin’s eyes. They seemed larger and bluer than usual, and they glistened as if filled with unshed tears. Strike’s eyes fluttered closed and he huffed out a sigh as Robin reached out a hand and cupped his cheek. Her hand glided smoothly, too smoothly, over his stubble.

“I thought I had time… I guess I never really thought you would be married. Or maybe it was hope. I hoped you wouldn’t go through with it. If I had said something, done something…would it have mattered?” he asked her hopelessly. “What am I supposed to do now?”

_As I sink in the sand_

_Watch you slip through my hands_

_Oh, as I die here another day_

_‘Cause all I do is cry behind this smile_

Robin grasped his hand and stood, pulling him towards his bedroom. They both lay on his bed, fully clothed. He faced her, drinking in her glow, her smooth skin. As she reached for him again, twisting her hand into his hair, he noticed that her ring was gone. Strike ran his hand up her arm and down her side. He grasped her hip, pulling her towards him, and kissed her. 

“I’m sorry Robin, but I have to let you go. I can’t live like this.”

Three tears leaked onto his pillow, carrying with them all of the pain, the regret, and the longing he couldn’t bear to feel anymore. Tomorrow, he would distance himself from Robin. He would value her as a colleague, but nothing more. A casual acquaintance. 

But tonight, he would hold her and kiss her. Tonight, he would allow himself to the indulge in her soft curves, her sweet laugh, her silken hair. Tonight would be the only night he would spend with Robin Ellacott.

_It’s hard for me to say, I’m jealous of the way_

_You’re happy without me._

**Author's Note:**

> I've been bothered for a while about why he never saw a long distance number on his call log and wondered if it was Robin. This was the only explanation I could think of.


End file.
